


Maid John Watson (thank you Twitter)

by DaddyMcBeardy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Bottom John, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Dominant Sherlock, Husbands, M/M, Maid dress, One Shot, Porn, Porn with some plot, Smut, Top Sherlock, kind of, maid John, maid kink, submissive John, toplock, wedding anniversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddyMcBeardy/pseuds/DaddyMcBeardy
Summary: It's John and Sherlock's anniversary; Sherlock is busy with work, John has a surprise.I wanted to thank Twitter for gracing me with the gif of Martin Freeman in a maid dress and a garter belt, it's what inspired this one shot. In fact, imagine that dress while reading.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Maid John Watson (thank you Twitter)

**Author's Note:**

> Initially it was supposed to be a little more fluffy...uh..but anywAys, happy reading ^^

This is the link to the gif, unfortunately I wasn't able to put it up here

<https://twitter.com/WATSONH0LMES/status/1355731809170980864?s=19>

Sherlock sighed tiredly as he finally sat in the cab, ready to go home. It had been a long day for him, spent looking at files and examining corpses and then re-reading those files again, trying to understand who the culprit behind those three murders was. He had been working on this case for some time now and it was getting frustrating. Usually he was able to come to a reasonable conclusion within few days, but this killer was an expert: left no traces, DNA, nothing.

He rested his head on his palm and looked at the little droplets of water landing and sliding down the window of the cab, the monotonous view helping to relax him.

Today was his and John's anniversary and he felt bad for not having celebrated it. This morning when he recieved a call from Lestrade informing him of a newly found victim and asking him if he could come see the crime scene, John had been understanding and said that if he needed to go he could and that he would've stayed home instead using a vague excuse that he didn't fully understand.

Initially he wasn't fully convinced because he wanted the day to be special, but John kept insisting so eventually he decided to go. The initial intent wat to only stay for a few hours so that he could surprise him by coming back and spend the rest of the day together, but one thing led to another and before he knew it the sky was dark and most of the day had passed. He mentally reprimanded himself for getting so immersed in his job that he ended up neglecting John. _His John_.

Suddenly he realised the cab had arrived at Baker Street, so he payed the driver and without bothering to open his umbrella he quickly walked into the building and up the stairs.

He unlocked the door and walked into the apartment, ready to apologize, however, instead of finding an irritated – and rightly so – John, he found nothing but darkness and what would be complete silence if it weren't for the muffled pitter patter of rain from outside. «Did he go to sleep?» he thought as he turned on the dim light of a lamp. «that's weird, usually he doesn't go to sleep until I come back home...».

He started walking towards the kitchen to see if he was there, when he noticed the faint light coming from under the closed door of their bedroom. He walked towards it, ready to say sorry a million times for missing their anniversary, but whatever speech he was preparing was immediately lost and his mind went completely blank as he opened the door and was met with something he had never thought his eyes would ever witness.

“Hello, Sherlock.”

In their candle lit bedroom, a smiling John was looking up at him, laying on their bed, in a black garter belt together with a black and white maid dress that barely covered his thighs, paired with ivory pearls that went from the center of his square neckline up to his delicate throat and around it. The contrast between his innocent smile and sinful attire made his pants restrict more quickly than he'd like to admit.

Seeing as all his muscles were frozen, except his eyes which kept looking up and down his husband's body, John decided to gently get up and slowly walk towards him, keeping an innocent look.

It was only when they were almost chest to chest that Sherlock managed to stutter “you're...wearing lipstick.”

John hummed in confirmation and then softly said “do you like what I'm wearing?” his hands reached for the scarf that was still around Sherlock's neck, and used it to pull him closer so that his warm breath tickled the skin of his cheek.

Sherlock barely managed a grunt of appreciation, too mesmerized to actually put into words what he was feeling.

“Then touch me” John whispered in his ear, making shivers run down his neck. Though as his hands slid from his scarf to his coat to take it off, something switched inside Sherlock, as if all of a sudden he had regained control of his body, and his hands quickly wrapped around John's wrists, stopping his hands. John's eyes snapped up big and innocent to look at his. “Oh, it's my touch that you want,” he said in his baritone voice and caught his husband's lower lip between his teeth.

“Tell me, what is it that you want exactly?” he continued between short kisses and bites while his hands slid up to cup his face.

John couldn't help but let a high pitched whimper escape his lips, getting turned on at the sudden roughness of Sherlock's actions. “Your hands...” he said shutting his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Sherlock's lips now brushing on his neck, now licking and sucking.

“Sorry darling, you need to be more specific than that” Sherlock bit down on the tender flesh earning himself the first real moan from the man under his lips.

“On me. I want your hands to touch my body, I want to feel them everywhere” John chocked out the words, feeling himself getting completely hard just by thinking of what he was saying.

Sherlock made a sound of appreciation and let his hands start so slowly slide down John's body. “Like this?” he asked as his hands went over the curve of John's arse, feeling the smooth fabric under his skin and then digging in the soft flesh with his fingers.

John eagerly nodded, exposing more of his neck to give better access to Sherlock's mouth. “Everywhere...” he whispered, and that was when Sherlock lifted his head to look at him in the eyes as his hands slipped under his skirt, wanting to witness each and every twitch of John's face as he feelt the rough lace that barely did a good job at covering John's marvelously round buttocks. While one hand rested on his arse, the other slipped in front and started feeling the hard cock struggling to stay confined beneath the restricting underwear. “So is this what you did while I was out, working? Dressing as my bitch?” he said, keeping eye contact as he slowly stroked him through the fabric.

John was barely managing to keep his eyes open, getting frustrated at the teasing pace Sherlock's hand was going at: not quick enough to satisfy him but enough to not be able to concentrate on anything but those long fingers between his legs. With some effort though, he managed to answer “I did it for you, Sherlock, only for you. I wouldn't dress like this for anybody else.”

Sherlock would be lying if he said he wasn't desperately turned on by the sight of an already so disheveled John, and the submissive tone is his words were making it impossible to resist any longer, so he pushed him on the bed and quickly threw on the floor his scarf and coat. He joined his lover on the bed, catching his lips yet again in a kiss, though this time it was more rough, aimed at satisfying the most instinctive needs of his inner id.

His hands roamed everywhere, from his shoulders to his chest and his thighs, soft and smooth. In fact, smoother than usual, and that's when he realized John had waxed his legs. The realization sollicited a grunt; he loved this man so much.

“You're wearing too many clothes” John said, slightly out of breath from their kiss, and started unbuttoning the bordeaux shirt that still covered his chest with one hand, while the other ran over the smooth skin that was progressively coming into view.

Once the shirt was long forgotten somewhere on the floor, John opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated to speak as a blush spread over his face, too embarrassed by what he wanted to ask.

Sherlock's mind may have been clouded with lust, but he immediately noticed the shift of behavior in his partner so he stopped and said “what is it love? I can tell you want to ask me something but you're too embarrassed to voice your request. Don't worry, you can tell me anything. What is it?”

“Can I...” John tried but only blushed further. Eventually he looked away and said “I want to ride your fingers, Sherlock, I want to feel them inside me”

Sherlock was sure no one could look so innocent while such wicked words fell out of their lips, yet here was John proving him wrong, oh so wrong, with his angel like face and sinful lips.

“God, you want that?” he said, feeling his erection starting to become painful. “Alright, let me see how you fuck yourself on my fingers,” he said as they switched positions so that he was lying on the bed instead. “Let me see how much they fill you and stretch you to your limit.”

John impatiently took off his undies and straddled Sherlock, making a point to bring down his hips on his erection and rock back and forth, loving the feeling of the rough fabric between his legs.

Sherlock, who still hadn't touched himself, moaned at the contact and relief inside his pants. He almost forgot his task, too concentrated on the pleasure he was receiving, but soon gathered his thoughts and remembered what he wanted to do. He brought two of his fingers up to John's parted lips and simply said “Suck.”

John didn't make him say it twice and immediately wrapped his velvety lips around the fingers, sucking and swirling his tongue around them as if they were something completely different.

He was almost tempted to let John suck his fingers the whole time, enjoying the sight far too much but he eventually pulled them out with a pop and said “Go on. Fuck yourself.”

John whimpered at the sound of Sherlock's lust filled voice swear, and positioned himself. The latter kept his eyes fixed onto the sight of John slowly sliding down his fingers, feeling how warm and tight he was. He was keeping the memories of this night in his mind palace for later, of this he was sure.

Initially John was silent as he was adjusting to the stretch but eventually “ _Ahh Sherlock_ , feels so _good_ ” he moaned as he started to pick up a pace.

“Oh John, look at you. So desperate for my fingers,” he said as his hand travelled between his own legs to ease the pressure in the mean time.

“Sherlock...need more...please” immediately a third finger was added. The cold sensation of the wedding ring hitting John's flesh at every thrust sent shivers up his spine, as a reminder that he was married to this man and how grateful he was of having him in his life.

Suddenly the fingers inside him curved, and that's when he saw stars. “ _Ahh_ , oh _God_ , Sherlock, I'm about - _ah_ \- I'm about to...” his thrusts sped up, drops of precome spilling on Sherlock's stomach, but right when he was about to achieve his release, Sherlock slid out his fingers. 

" _Sherlooock"_ he whined, frustrated for the sudden emptyness. 

“I think you're having too much fun on your own, sweetheart. Besides...I can fill you up much better in other ways...” he said as he aligned himself with John's entrance.

The latter blushed at those words, but without much hesitancy sat on his cock, taking it in all in one go.

Sherlock's eyes rolled back and his hands clutched at John's soft thighs at the sudden pleasure – it was amazing what that tight little arse could do – and when the latter began moving at a rather fast pace, he couldn't help but moan. He usually wasn't a loud lover, that was more John who, when in pleasure, started moaning like his life depended on it, but he had been aching for something more than his hand for too long now.

“Gosh you're so tight, John. It doesn't matter how many fingers you take, you're always so impeccably tight” he panted.

“Mhm I'm glad, ” John moaned as he sped up his movements. “You know, I wanted to tell you...” he continued between a thrust and another “that I've always loved the way you fill me up to my limit...I love how I can't walk for days after you fuck me...I...l-love you” John said and came right after that sentence, spilling everything onto Sherlock, who, after a few other thrusts and an “I love you too, you don't know how much” came too inside John in hot spurts.

After a few moments Sherlock pulled out and moved John closer so that he could lick with his tongue the come that was dripping down John's thighs, who, although he had just came, couldn't help but shiver at the sensation.

As they both lay down on the bed, Sherlock turned to John and said “happy anniversary, my love, and thanks for the splendid night. I'm sorry I got so caught up with work.”

John smiled fondly “don't be, it's okay. I think this has been the best sex I've ever had, anyways. You know I didn't think I would've enjoyed garter belts as much as I did, but they make me feel pretty.”

“You're always beautiful to me” Sherlock said, wrapping am arm around him.

John chuckled “happy anniversary, honey,” and kissed him sweetly.

He blew off the few candles that were still lit and went back into Sherlock's arms, nuzzling his head into his chest and after only a few minutes they both fell asleep.

The End.

BONUS SCENE I couldn't help it jsksk

The morning after, both Sherlock and John walked into the morgue where Molly and Lestrade were waiting, to examine better the victims. As they walked in though, the sight of John clutching Sherlock's arm for dear life as he walked, immediately made the both of them furrow their brows in worry and wonder. “Oh my, John, are you alright?” Molly asked.

“Uh- yes, of course I am, I just...” John trailed off, trying to think of an excuse. He looked up at Sherlock who simply smirked, knowing full well what had happened, and rolled his eyes. «The bastard...» he thought to himself. “I simply...slept bad, yeah...very bad.” he said but couldn't help but think how untrue that was. Sleeping with Sherlock was always an amazing experience, he always thought more people should try sleeping with a Sherlock, but unfortunately there was only one and that one was his, so other people should just deal with it.

“Well, no offense but you look like you have a stick up your arse,” Lestrade commented, but as he did so, his eyes slightly widened, as if saying that out loud made him realize what was actually going on, unlike Molly, who continued to look oblivious.

“Well...that's how I feel” John said.

“Is it a big stick?” Sherlock asked, trying to contain a giggle, and John simply elbowed him while giving him a glare.

Lestrade cleared his throat “Right...uhm, passing on to the corpses...”

And the rest of the day went by, John received some other comments and questions regarding his walk, which he tried to gliss with vague answers, and just the day after, Sherlock managed to solve the case by analizing that one small detail that he had kept missing.

**Author's Note:**

> My sister saw me writing this and asked what it was about AHAHAH it's totally about a person walking in a park and thinking...👀


End file.
